Nightmares and Dreams
by Olover
Summary: When Oliver's world comes crashing down around him, will anyone be able to rescue him?


5 months. Still no relief. Still no end to his suffering. 5 months had passed since that dreadful day. It happened so suddenly. One minute she was there, fighting with him, side by side. Then the next... He couldn't bear to recall the events of that night. He fought so hard, trying to shut them out. He occupied himself, helping around Hogwarts, where the headmistress Minerva McGonagall had set up a refuge for D.A members with nowhere to go. He became a Quidditch coach, he helped the professors with their work, he studied to become a Herbology Professor. It wasn't enough. No matter how hard he fought during the day, it always crept back at night. The same nightmare every night. It drew the very warmth from his heart, the sanity from his brain. It was killing him.

...

Oliver lay in bed, sweating, shivering, groaning, and occasionally, screaming. It woke his roommate Neville, who crept across the room towards him. Avoiding his flailing arms, he gripped Oliver firmly by the shoulders and shook him gently, softly speaking his name, so as not to scare him. Oliver sat bolt upright, his arm thrust out, brandishing an invisible wand to disarm his enemies. He came to his senses, confused, then realized he was safe, in bed, woken by Neville. He relaxed, knowing it was just another nightmare. " Sorry, Neville, and thanks for waking me." He said, and giving him an apologetic look as Neville clambered back into bed. Oliver glanced at his watch. 2:30 am. He then looked at his calendar, remembering it had been exactly one month since he had last sent a letter to his closest friends, the Weasleys, the Potters, Alicia, his family, his old friends from Hogwarts and the rest of D.A. He sent them all a monthly letter, making sure everyone was OK. He decided to start writing his letters now. They were always short and similar, along the lines of

Hi Harry,

How are you and Ginny? Is everything going OK? Keeping up with your Quidditch, I hope?

Everything's going well at Hogwarts, Filch near enough blew his top last week, a whole class of first years traipsing mud through the whole school, I wish you could have seen his face!

Wood

And that was exactly what he wrote in his first letter. He wrote one to everyone, 17 in total, all similar, yet slightly personalised. It took him half an hour, which to Oliver's displeasement, meant that he had another 4 hours until most of the students woke up and his day began. In the end, Oliver decided to clear his head and get some fresh air. He quickly slipped on his robe and Gryffindor scarf and, leaving his feet bare, left the dormitory. He jogged down the stairs and walked towards the front door, silently heaving it open. He shut it quickly behind him, and padded swiftly towards the Quidditch pitch.

DPOV

Delphy was returning from the kitchen with a glass of water when she heard the main door close quietly. Tens of fleeting thought passed through her mind. Was this a criminal escaping? A student visiting the Forbidden Forest? Someone making a secret trip? She decided the best thing to do was to follow the person, if it was even human. She left her glass by the door, cast Lumos and, on edge, crept through the door. Delphy scanned the surrounding area for movement, keeping as still as possible. Something to her right caught her eye, and she looked around in time to glimpse what looked like a human headed for the Quidditch Pitch. Bit dark for a practise, she thought. Still nervous in the dark, she followed them reluctantly. She tracked the person, a male, she thought, to the Quidditch Stadium, and headed up to the stands while the person went out onto the pitch.

OPOV

Unaware that someone had followed him from the castle, Oliver stepped out onto the pitch. He felt the short-cropped grass under his feet, crisp with frost. The cold seeped in, chilling his feet to the bone, but he ignored it. Breathing in the cold October air, Oliver gazed at the sky, watching the stars and planets twinkle in the distance. The last thing he remembered was laying on the ground imagining a Quidditch match, knowing that he'd never be able to join a team and sadly, he fell asleep.


End file.
